


in this cave we found wonder

by CherFleur



Series: SW prompts [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Feral survived, M/M, Mute Feral, No actual rape non/con but it's mentioned because Nightsisters, No one likes you Nightsisters, because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur
Summary: Quinlan would like to state for the record that it wasn't his fault this time, and that is wasn't his job to put together the mission packets.
Relationships: Quinlan Vos/Feral
Series: SW prompts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971988
Comments: 5
Kudos: 163





	in this cave we found wonder

**Author's Note:**

> Discord prompt from Mya: Quinlan/Feral sharing a bed

The sort of luck that landed someone on Dathomir had to be something that Obi-Wan had pawned off on him. Normally Quinlan didn’t get into _quite_ the sort of trouble that his friend did, and he could honestly say that he wasn’t feeling very confident about his survival rates.

Hidden away in a cave by a pretty zabrak with haunted eyes who had silently dragged Quinlan away from Nightsister notice, he was having a hard time finding a worse mission.

You’d think that finding a smuggling ring that was dabbling in the Separatist agenda and shutting them down from the inside would be easy.

And he’d gotten in relatively smoothly! Quinlan was good at his job and distracting people with charming smiles, hair flips and strategic flexing was all his weapon of choice. The fact that said smugglers were in contact and even _taking jobs_ from Mother Talzin had not been in his brief. In the least.

Quinlan had zero desire to be raped to death, thanks, and he would have given this to a female Shadow who _wouldn’t_ have to worry about being used as breeding stock.

Still, healing up after the unfortunate fiasco of getting sensed by dark magic on the smuggler vessel, he got to know his mute companion.

He’d taught the pretty, timid zabrak basic hand signs when it became clear that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, speak. While Quinlan would _like_ to think the best of the galaxy, that was more Luminara’s gig. It was unfortunate, but he couldn’t say he was surprised when the named _Feral_ was so very thankful for this way to communicate.

Feral was very good at hiding his Force Signature. So good at it, that Quinlan hadn’t even realized he _had_ one, until the zabrak had sat beside him and laid hands over one of his wounds, suffusing it with relieving heat. It made sense, in a culture that was based around the enslavement and _use_ of Force Sensitive males, that the Nightbrothers would know how to hide.

Something awful had happened to that young man though, and Quinlan had learned after the first few shocks of horror-pain-betrayal not to touch him above the shoulders.

The sensation of staring up at a larger zabrak who no longer felt safe-warm-love and had turned cold-dark-blank- _rage_ and feeling his neck _snap_ was one he could have lived without. He commended Feral for his ability to overcome the action, just as he commended him for dragging his broken body and nearly severed spinal cord away to hide. If he’d been any less zabrak, any weaker in the Force, he’d be a corpse in the ground and Quinlan – and the galaxy – would be much worse off.

The horrors of his neck didn’t show in his hands though.

Every time Feral laid his hands on Quinlan to help him replace a splint or check a wound, all Quinlan received from him was _kindness._ Boundless compassion and steady, wholehearted _care_ for others. These were not hands used for wonton violence, not claws used for gouging and tearing.

Laying next to him in the darkness of the cave that was their temporary home – until Quinlan was healed enough to hotwire a ship outta there – he didn’t dread sleep. With others who had been so hurt, so _broken_ , Quinlan would have grit his teeth and born the potential for psychic feedback from night terrors.

And he had, at first. He’d dealt with the quiet choking, the crushing wave or horror-fear-grief as he felt a phantom neck snap over and over and _over_ again.

Now though, he knew that Feral slept in not quite peace, but contentment, when Quinlan wrapped himself around him. When he let his Force presence fold into Feral’s just a little, just enough to say _I’m here_ , and soothed the wounded thing in his zabrak’s soul.

When he got them out of here, when he saved them both from this awful place… Quinlan wanted to keep that at least.

It wasn’t only Feral’s nightmares that were soothed this way, after all.


End file.
